I Kept My Promise
by Pinelle
Summary: "Really? Did Papa look like me?" interrogated the girl with sparkles in her eyes. Seeing her sparkling eyes, mother laughed. She remembered how his eyes sparkled the first time she said that she loved him.


* MINOR MANGA SPOILERS *

* * *

The brunette tightly held on to the infant's hand, walking forward. The little girl was no more than five, but she looked a little old for her age – around seven.

"Where are we going?" asked the child, looking up at the woman that was leading her.

"We're going to see someone," she answered, her pink eyes looking straight ahead.

The dirt on the ground accumulated on the tiny girl's shoes from her dragging her feet. She wafted away a little bit of debris as it made its way to her face. She let out a high pitched sneeze, cleaning her nose afterward with the sleeve of her jacket.

"Who would want to live here?" she asked the same woman, presumably her mother.

"A lot of people live here," she responded looking down at her daughter and smiling.

"I wouldn't want to," the little girl told her, making a pout.

The brunette laughed at the little girl's words, petting her head with her other hand. "You're just like _him_," she said, her smile fading ever so slightly into a look of pain.

The child seemed to ignore her mother's remark and continued to point out the reasons why she wouldn't live in such a place.

"It's cold too," she complained, "Are we almost there?"

The woman erased any traces of sadness and answered her daughter with an even bigger smile than before.

"Almost."

The infant nodded shyly, wondering why her mother had brought her to such a place. It was dirty, freezing, and a little scary. Everything around her was pretty much trees and large boulders. However, she was also genuinely curious as to what or who they were going to visit, so she was trying her best to go along with it.

The pink-eyed brunette kept looking forward. Unknowingly to her child, though, she was trying to be just as strong as her.

The woman suddenly tightened her grip around the small hand. She abruptly stopped walking, leaving her daughter fairly confused.

"Mamma, what's wrong?" she asked, tugging on her mother's coat.

She slowly looked down at her child, having a look of pain in her eyes but a smile on her face.

"N-no, nothing," she took a deep breath, closing her eyes shut for a few seconds before opening them again. She directed her eyes forward once more and continued to walk.

The woman slowed her pace down as she came closer to a small structure – about the same size as the little girl.

The infant curiously looked at the thing. It had words on it, but she couldn't read that well yet, so she just turned her head to her mother and waited for her to explain what she was supposed to be looking at.

After a few seconds of silence, the woman looked down at her daughter with glassy eyes.

"Do you know what this is?" she asked, knowing that the minor wouldn't have an answer.

"No," she honestly answered, shaking her head from side to side and staring at the rock-like object.

"This," said the brunette, trying to keep her calm composure, "is where Papa's sleeping."

"Papa?" the girl cocked her head to one side, briefly looking at her mother then back at the tombstone.

"Yes. Your Papa," assured the adult.

The little girl stepped forward, letting go of her mother's hand in order to get closer to the stone. She reached out her small hand to where the words were written and softly pressed her fingers against them, feeling the coldness of the tombstone.

"Mamma, what is this?" she asked, referring to where her fingers were resting.

"It's something we write in order to know who's sleeping here," she responded, feeling her eyes starting to sting. No. She couldn't start crying in front of her daughter.

"What does it say?" questioned the little girl.

"It says," - the woman crouched down and whispered something into the infant's ear - "don't forget that," she ordered once she'd set a bigger distance between her mouth and the girl's ear. After whispering an answer, the mother had to try even harder to keep in her tears. She tried so hard that her body started to shake a little. Her lips quivered along slightly more than her body and a knot was felt in her throat.

The daughter nodded and bit onto her lower lip nervously.

"I won't forget," she promised.

It was then that the brunette could feel the knot in her throat becoming tighter. Her eyes stung like they had caught something in them and her lips curled inwards.

"Momma?" asked the girl with concern in her voice.

The woman tried to smile, but the pain was too much. Those words were too much.

_I won't forget_

She felt a tickling sensation on her cheeks, realizing that she was crying. The warm tears dropped onto the ground, making miniscule puddles of mud as they blended with the dirt.

She grabbed her daughter's shoulders and pulled her into a hug, wailing.

The young child wasn't sure what to do. She somewhat understood why her mother was in pain, but she herself didn't feel any. The only pain that the girl felt was the pain of seeing her mother in such a vulnerable state.

The adult gripped onto the back of the child's jacket, squeezing and crying as hard as she could.

A familiar scent filled the woman's nose; even if it _was _stuffy. The smell that helped her and the infant's father so many times. If it wasn't for that smell, then the girl might not have been born.

The woman lifted her head from her daughter's shoulder and frantically looked around for the source of the scent.

Where was it coming from? She tried to concentrate, but her state was too unstable. She took a few whiffs, trying to figure out why it smelled like _him._

It was at that moment when she realized where the smell was coming from. She grabbed onto the small shoulders again and pushed the girl away a few millimeters, looking into her electric blue eyes. It was definitely coming from the infant in front of her.

The girl looked at her mother with a confused look, but she was glad that she'd stopped crying.

"Mamma, are you okay now?" she asked.

A gentle smile was offered from mother to daughter.

"Yeah... I was just thinking about how much you remind me of your Papa," she responded, seemingly calmer.

"Really? Did Papa look like me?" interrogated the girl with sparkles in her eyes.

Seeing her sparkling eyes, mother laughed. She remembered how his eyes sparkled the first time she said that she loved him.

"Yup!" she answered, smiling brightly.

The woman stood up to normal height and grasped the girl's hand once more.

"You're just like him!" she assured, brushing her daughter's silky, jet-black hair with her fingers. "You have the same soft hair, too."

The little girl flashed her teeth at her mother, feeling proud for looking like her dad.

The woman looked at the stone and said in a low voice, "I kept my promise."

She took in one last deep breath before turning around and walking away from her lover's resting place.

"What should I make today for dinner?" she asked, her pain completely wiped off of her face.

"Hmmm..." thought the child for a second, "Octopus hot dogs!" she exclaimed.

"Geez," laughed the mother, "you guys could've been twins."

They walked farther and farther from the grave as they laughed together, leaving shoe prints on the dirt.

"Yato. God of Happiness." The child would keep her promise and never forget what that tombstone had written on it.

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Hope you guys liked this!

I've seen a lot of people writing about Hiyori growing up/dying and Yato being left behind, but I decided to do the opposite. I based it mostly on Hiyori's promise to Yato to never forget him and I also included when Yato proclaims himself to be a God of Happiness.

I'm writing a fluffy Yatori fanfiction as well (which isn't sad at all), so feel free to check that out, too! :3

~Pinelle


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